Rubies and Pearls
by Beth Nottingham
Summary: One-shots, deleted scenes and what-ifs for my Red Queen Series. Literally a disjointed collection of moments. (Wow, that's a summary that'll convince people to click on it, eh?)
1. 1 09

**A/N: Hello, readers! One of my favorite authors does this thing where she writes her story, but then takes all of the little deleted scenes and what-ifs and drabbles and fluff and whatnot that she couldn't fit into the actual plot, and posts them into a different "story" that's just a series of mostly unconnected one-shots. There may be outtakes too.**

 **These all occur within the universe of my other story, Red Queen, and some of them will contain spoilers for that, so the chapter titles in the dropdown are a funny little number code. The first number is the season of Red Queen, and the second number is the chapter. This one is 1.09 so it may contain spoilers up to Season 1, Chapter 9.**

 **I'd like to say that you can still read and enjoy these without reading Red Queen, but I'm not sure about all of them. Some stuff may not make a great deal of sense. But, hey, if you're cool with that, then by all means, read on!**

Walls

Typically, when Klaus entered his house, the only sounds were the movements and vital signs of his staff. Lately, he'd grown accustomed to the additional sounds of all the medical equipment in the East Wing. Since Caroline had recently awoken, he'd been astounded by how quiet the house was every time he'd walked through the door and nothing was beeping or hissing or whirring.

But today, as he returned home, he heard strange voices and the sounds of car engines—and some unnatural animal noises. Confused, he sped silently to the doorway of the living room, only to find Caroline sitting on the couch, watching some action movie on his television. That made a lot more sense. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, noiselessly watching her. It was good—incredibly good—to see her up and about. She looked so amazingly natural, lounging on his sofa, television remote on one knee, and a mug of something steaming on the other. She wore jeans and a Mystic Fall High School sweatshirt, and her hair was pulled back into a messy loop at the top of her head. She wasn't trying to impress anybody today. She was just making herself completely at home.

He wondered how long she would stay. She'd only been conscious for a few days, and didn't have a daylight ring yet, but Terry was going to make her a new one tomorrow morning. Still, her well-meaning friends had brought half of her possessions over while she was comatose; was she really up to moving back home right away, once it was safe for her to leave the shelter of his double-paned and tempered windows? She was still weak and ill. She still needed Meredith and Terry to keep an eye on her. Soon, her vampire body would regain its strength, and eventually she'd leave, but for now, here she was. In his house. Living her life.

They'd always had walls between them, from the moment they first met. He was dark, charming, clever, and perfectly in control. She was alluring, saucy, and fearless. They had similarities, yes, but like the same poles of two magnets, the moment they got close to one another, they flew back apart. Would the walls come down, with them living in the same house?

But, he wondered, a little distracted, what was this movie was she watching, anyway? A Tyrannosaurus Rex was ripping a man in half on the screen; there was blood everywhere. Caroline was a vampire, and had lost plenty of people to paranormal violence. It seemed odd that she would be watching something like this for entertainment.

"Care to join me?" She didn't turn her head all the way, but shifted it to the side, indicating him.

One of the best things about being a thousand-year-old immortal was that Klaus was quite good at acting unfazed. He needed that experience now; he wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been standing there, or when she'd realized he was watching her. He hadn't intended to stalk her in his own house—he didn't normally stand around like a slack-jawed fool.

"What are you watching?" he asked, with a touch of incredulity, stepping down the two stairs and into the room.

"Jurassic Park," she admitted with a little laugh, looking up at him as he came within her field of vision. "Not a lot of plot—mostly just a bunch of people running from dinosaurs. And the one poor main character who's completely hopeless at dealing with kids."

There it was. An easy, natural smile, a little sparkle in her eyes. No affectations, no acting… The walls that usually stood between them had been pulled silently off to one side like a curtain. What would happen if he sat down? Would she turn her attention back to the movie, or would they talk? This was possibly the first time they'd been alone in a room together, without some angle going on, or some acting playing into things, or some desperate situation occupying both of their thoughts. No one was dying, no one was plotting… He'd wanted this, from the first time he spoke with her, if he was honest with himself.

But suddenly, he felt nervous. How would she react to him, with the walls down? She seemed to like him, but was that only when she was putting it on? Did she only like the personality he affected for her? Granted, he knew that she often glimpsed the real him; she'd see through the cracks in his façade, or make them when none were to be found. But that was wholly different from taking the mask off entirely…

"I'll pass, thanks," he said, casually glancing at the TV and then turning to leave.

"Oh, okay," she responded. "Not your kind of movie?"

She sounded a little disappointed. Confidence thrilled through him. She thought—perhaps hoped?—that it was only the movie he wanted to avoid. He wasn't about to act indecisive now, but as he walked away, he knew that there would be a next time.

"It's the sound effects," he invented casually before leaving her line of sight. She nodded. "They didn't actually sound anything like that," he added from the doorway. She nodded again.

Then she whirled around to stare at him over the back of the couch, wide-eyes, mouth open.

"I knew it. I KNEW IT!" She exclaimed, laughing. "You ARE as old as the dinosaurs!"

Klaus smiled over his shoulder, that one special smile that he reserved only for her, and then vanished into the hallway, her laughter ringing in his ears. Yes, there would be a next time. And next time he'd sit down.

 **A/N: Well, there it is. 950 words, no plot, just fluff and a little bit of angst, and dinosaurs. This is what happens when I decide to watch Jurassic Park while working on Red Queen…**

 **This story will be updated with radically varying frequency—basically just when I think of stuff and get around to it. I have an alternate first chapter in the works; that'll probably come next. TTFN, folks! :-)**


	2. 1 17

**A/N: This was the original version of the scene in RQ chapter 17 where Caroline recaps what happened when Klaus was a wolf and gives him magic tea. Klaus derailed that scene entirely (*glares sternly at Klaus* *Klaus shrugs*) so we didn't get to see them have this part of the conversation. This contains spoilers through Red Queen, chapter 17.**

Had to Be

"So then, I tried to do that body-language canine communication thing, but I don't know how well it worked," Caroline babbled quickly, "you seemed to respond more to words or just to recognizing that I was me—I don't know if the rules are different for Original hybrids versus regular hybrids or what, and I've never been around Tyler when he was both a wolf and mostly calm, y'know?"

Klaus took another long draught of the tea, savoring both the impossible flavor and the flood of physical comfort it provided to his whole body. He could feel it in his toes, the roots of his hair, everywhere.

"For a vampire your age, you know an awful lot about werewolves," he observed, impressed. They were basically an endangered species, especially this far East, and Caroline had only been a vampire for a year or two.

"Hey, I had nineteen days to become an expert at dealing with one of the most lethal mythological creatures on the face of the earth," she responded with a humorless laugh. "To save the life of a guy I'd known since I was four," she continued, "but who I'd only exchanged about nine words with in our entire lives—and at least five of them were probably swear words. Believe me—I did my homework."

"So, you weren't always so close," he mused, finishing his tea and setting the mug aside regretfully. He'd always assumed they'd been childhood sweethearts of some sort—intervening relationships notwithstanding.

"No," she laughed, shaking her head vehemently. "He couldn't for the life of him understand why Matt would want to go out with me. Of course," she added with a shrug, "looking back I can kind of see his point."

"I can't imagine going to so much trouble to save a stranger," Klaus murmured thoughtfully. He was still trying to adjust his thinking; the image of Caroline and Tyler as an inseparable duo between whom nothing and no one could get for very long had been a powerful one. A challenging one, of course, but powerful.

"Well, his situation reminded me of my own a little," Caroline admitted. "One minute he was just a normal guy with a normal life, and then the next minute, he's a murderer, he's a monster, and everyone wants to kill him in self-defense, just for existing." Klaus frowned, taken aback.

"Of course, you had a bunch of vampire friends who _didn't_ want to kill you," he checked, raising an eyebrow a little bit.

"Some of them did," she corrected him. "Some of them didn't, but knew they'd probably have to anyway. And like I said, I kind of see their point."

"How so?" he demanded incredulously, feeling the beginnings of rage stirring in the back of his mind. Who had dared threaten _his_ Caroline?

"Have you ever seen Stefan's motorcycle?" she asked. Klaus nodded stiffly. "Two weeks after I was turned, Damon bought that for Stefan, grudgingly, from what I could tell. At the end of the month," she continued, "Elena had this pair of huge diamond earrings that I'd never seen before, and every time she saw Damon, she'd kind of flash them at him." She tossed her head, flashing her own earrings for effect. "And she had this 'I-told-you-so' look on her face."

"And?" Klaus pressed, still not getting it.

"They were making bets," Caroline responded. "On how long I'd make it without doing something they'd have to kill me for."

Now the anger was taking hold in earnest, burning through his veins and rejuvenating his battered body, making him feel like perhaps he could turn again, if only to more brutally kill everyone who had the incredible foolishness to threaten her.

"You would've hated me as a human," she laughed, lost in memories and oblivious to his mounting ire—which in her defense hadn't quite showed on his face yet; he was frozen, jaw tense, eyes flickering with something black, but other than that he hadn't changed. "I was superficial, self-obsessed, insanely jealous," she listed, eyes focused on her hands, which rested in her lap, twisting together as she recalled the awkward memories with chagrin.

"When someone told you that you couldn't do something," he interrupted, "did you do it to prove them wrong?"

"Yeah," she said casually, shrugging and finally looking at him.

"Did you enjoy new experiences?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said again, slower and a little quizzically.

"Were you clever?"

"Yeah, I… I guess I was," she responded awkwardly. He watched her blush and look down again, unable to fathom why she would be self-conscious about that. "Not that most people knew that, of course," she added quietly.

"But you were _you_ ," he summed up.

"I… yeah, I guess, but I was—"

"Then I _wouldn't_ have hated you as a human," he finished, cutting off whatever self-deprecating thing she was about to say. She looked up at him, blank surprise in her eyes. "Vampirism amplifies what's already there, darling. You're strong now, so you must've been strong then," he began to list. "You're adventurous, you're stubborn, you don't let anyone tell you who to be or what to do—you're _free_ … you're incredible, Caroline. You're beautiful, you're brave… I meant what I said at the ball," he finished. "You are full of light, Caroline. And if you can be that way now, as a vampire, then you most certainly _were_ that way, at least deep down, as a human."

He couldn't name the emotion in her face when he finished speaking—he couldn't know about the years she'd spent feeling like second best, like no matter how much she tried she'd never be anyone's first choice, like the act of _trying_ somehow made her less than everyone around her. He couldn't know the years of shame that in that moment she began to let go—and the fear that came with the deep-rooted inferiority that she'd only recently learned how to disregard.

What he did know was that she kissed him, suddenly, passionately, and as his hands moved across her body, pulling her to him, as he breathed her in, he felt the anger subside—or at least take a back seat.

Later, when he could think clearly again, he realized with a sort of resigned irritation that he couldn't slaughter everyone who'd hurt her, because he'd have to kill everyone she knew, and then _he'd_ be the one hurting her.

But what he could do, what he quietly promised himself he _would_ do, was make damn sure that she was never hurt that way again.

 **A/N: So, yeah, just a little vignette about the way Caroline sees herself both as a vampire and a human—a different option for her to get closure on the "I'm never the one anybody picks" conversation.**

 **Review and tell me what'cha think!**

 **Two weeks till The Originals Season 4 premiers! I'm so excited! The trailers are heart-wrenching… seriously, my chest hurt and I seriously wanted to hug Klaus. And possibly commit a few murders.**


	3. 1 09B

**A/N: This chapter is an alternate ending for Red Queen, Chapter 9, where Klaus** _ **doesn't**_ **make the first move after Elena leaves. I cut it for space, because it would've created more tension than the story needed at that point. But I still like it, and I feel like it's a conversation they probably should have had at some point. So, here it is!**

I'm Angry with You Because I…

Caroline inhaled deeply, and then blew the breath out slowly. _No time like the present,_ she thought, stomach twisting a little as she stood up, straightened her jeans, and headed out into the hallway.

She found Klaus in the gallery, brush in hand, surveying alternately the canvas in front of him, a few candles he had lit beside him, and the color pallet on the table.

"Hey," she greeted him softly, leaning against the door frame. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"If I said no," he responded, irritation coloring his tone, "would it really stop you?"

"You're pouting?" she asked, entering the room and sitting down on a barstool by some landscapes. He glared up at her, clearly not appreciating her word choice. He tossed his brush on the table and sat down on another stool, folding his arms. He raised his eyebrows.

"Well?" he demanded quietly.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" Caroline hedged. He couldn't be that upset over one little comment, could he? She'd barely even said anything—just that she didn't feel guilty over having dirty thoughts about him! He… had to know that she did _have_ those… right? He'd gone out of his way to try and seduce her, after all.

"Silas is free, the cure has run off with my worst enemy, my dreams have gone up in flames and you're already up to your old tricks again," he retorted. "I think I'm well within the realm of reasonable to be in a dark humor."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I guess that would make for a pretty bad day, huh?"

"Why did you dagger Kol?"

Caroline blinked in surprise. That had come out of nowhere.

"You're still stuck on that?" she asked, standing up and wandering over to her left where she could avoid looking at him by admiring some of his artworks. "I thought we settled this last night."

"We didn't bloody settle anything—you passed out," he reminded her, standing up himself.

"Genocide is _bad_ , last I checked," she commented, flinging her arms wide as she stated the ridiculously obvious. "I was fixing a really _bad_ situation."

"You know what I mean," he snapped, standing up as well. "You almost died! Why didn't you call me? I could've dealt with it."

"I wasn't thinking that far ahead!" she insisted irritably. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go at all. "I was dashing across town in panic-mode, and when I saw the situation, I just jumped right in—I do that sometimes, remember?"

"Vividly," he responded flatly. "And while we're on the subject of your ready-fire-aim tendencies, I'd love to know just what the hell you were thinking, getting in the middle of the hybrid battle last month."

"I was _trying to stop a massacre_!" She shouted, right into his face, at this point. "God, why are you _so mad_ about this? I'm _alive_ , aren't I?"

"Yes, for the _moment_ you're still _breathing_ , but only through sheer dumb luck! You keep acting like you think you're invincible, and it's _going to get you killed!_ " He yelled back, gesturing widely at the door, as if to point out all of the dangers that lay beyond it.

"I'd rather _me_ get killed then _me_ having to live, _forever_ , knowing that I could've done something and didn't!" she snapped, gesticulating with fast, staccato motions.

"Well _I wouldn't_!" he snarled in her face.

Silence fell.

"I know that," she said evenly after a few heartbeats. "But that's not your choice to make."

"It could be," he hissed, eyes burning into hers threateningly. If she hadn't been in such a tense situation, she would've laughed. He was _threatening_ to _protect_ her against her will—how messed up and confusing was that? Then again, this was the guy who routinely stashed his family in coffins and carted them around for centuries in the name of protecting them. 'What have I gotten myself into?' she wondered dazedly before coming back to the present.

"But if I let you do that," she said quietly, "I wouldn't be me, now would I?"

"You'd have a longer life-expectancy," he muttered darkly, turning back to his canvas, his eyes reflecting the candle light—or perhaps they were glowing werewolf gold; she couldn't really tell.

"What are you really pissed about?" she sighed. He looked at her, eyebrow raised, eyes guarded.

"Kol, the werewolves, my conversation with Elena…" she listed. "I'm always interfering with you and your family and all your evil villain stuff. If that was enough to make you this mad the whole time, I don't think you'd like me as much as you apparently do."

He turned back to his canvas, but she could see how tightly he was gripping the paintbrush. It was starting to splinter under his fingers. How could she not know? _How could she not know_? What she meant to him, what her death would _do_ to him… the hybrids, Kol murdering the doppelganger… none of that was worth a hair on her head.

She said something in an exasperated tone that he didn't really hear, between the anger humming in his veins and the effort he was making not to show it, not to keep berating her while she was so delicate, and then stalked off, throwing her hands into the air in irritated surrender. He dipped the brush into a puddle of crimson paint and began the mindless work of creating a crimson backdrop for his painting.

No, she wouldn't be her anymore if she wasn't stubborn, impulsive, protective and fiercely independent. And he wouldn't be him if he didn't do everything in his power—whether or not they liked it—to keep safe the very, very few people he cared about. Putting those two together… that was going to keep ending up like this, he thought in frustration, tossing the brush as the center turned to powder between his too-tight fingers, and grabbing another one.

Why was he angry?

He knew why.

 **A/N: Title's from Damon's line at the ball: "I'm mad at you because I love you!"**

 **Review!**


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